Twisted Sympathy
by Meganlovesjb
Summary: A Joe Jonas One Shot. -- “Someone’s going to teach that girl a lesson Joseph, and it’s either going to be me or you." --Joe Jonas had a choice. But to help her he had to hurt her.


**Twisted Sympathy**

**So I am aware that this is incredibly fucked up. I'm aware that it's very painful and hard to read, and I am aware that you're all probably wondering why I would write it. I can't explain it. I'm a little fucked up I guess. This idea was so powerful and painful I had to write it. Sometimes I think up the most random messed up shit.**

**_Warning this will be disturbing._**

**I may have turned this into a full out fic and expanded it, but I don't have the time right now and I already have a full kidnapping fic so I didn't see the point. Oh and yeah I made the banner, yup it sucks but I didn't want to bug Chelsea again lol. And No Joe's father isn't Kevin Sr. It's a random I made up.**

I never expected it from him, maybe his disgusting father, but not _him_. I'd almost trust him; he was so kind and gentle. But as I was about to find out, his hands were just as tied as mine.

Since the moment I had been brought to that hell whole, Joe had been watching out for me and for that, I would be forever grateful. My time spent there would have no doubt been a hundred times worse, were it not for him and the small gestures that showed me he wasn't a heartless monster and that he cared. I could see it in his eyes, I could see that he didn't like what his father was doing, but I could also see that he had a loyalty to him and obeyed him, mostly without question.

* * *

The larger and older man dragged me down the stairs and into the basement, throwing me to the ground hard. I whimpered as my skin made contact with the cold hard floor and scrapped against it. "Get up," he said, walking towards me and lifting me up by my arm harshly, before throwing me into a chair nearby. He grabbed some rope and tightly and effortlessly held my arms behind my back securely. He began to tie them tightly behind the chair and I squinted in slight pain. I looked up, studying the room; it was cold, damp, empty. The floor and walls were cement, it looked almost like an old cellar, it was very dimly lit by a small ceiling light and the chair I was sitting in seemed to be the only furnishing. I then noted the other man in the room. He looked about my age, 18, maybe a few years older. He stood there, his face emotionless, not offering any help, nor interfering in anyway just watching. I never met his eyes and soon hung my head again in defeat.

When the man behind me had finished tying my hands so tightly I was sure the circulation was cut off, he stepped in front of me. He grabbed my face and lifted it roughly, the hair falling from in front of it, and forced me to meet his eyes.

"You stay quiet. I don't want to hear a sound," he warned harshly before dropping his hand and turning towards the stairs he entered by. It was a few days later that I learned his name, it was Steve.  
"Son," he gestured to the younger man standing against the wall. "Stay down here a bit and watch her will you? Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Make her understand that we're not fucking around, and don't hesitate to use force if she gets sassy or tries anything," he said coldly.

The younger man nodded stiffly at his father, arms crossed over his chest in a very militaristic pose. He was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to the muscles of his torso, paired with jeans. He was well built and I swallowed a lump of fear in my throat. The older man made his way up the stairs quickly and shut a door behind him. I peeled my eyes away from the doorway and looked over at the other man hesitantly. It was hard to read his face in the dim light, but I saw nothing friendly there. I didn't even realize I was shaking from both fear and the cold until I heard my own teeth chattering and clamped them together tightly. I'd been wearing only a knee high navy blue sundress and flip flops when they'd taken me and wasn't offered anything else. I was still yet to be offered any explanation as to why I was here and didn't understand what these men wanted from me. For all I knew, I was about to be killed.

The man just stood there emotionless and still, studying me for so long that I had to drop my gaze out of mere intimidation. I looked down, avoiding his harsh gaze as I studied the cement floor and struggled slightly with the rope binding my hands. It was really starting to hurt and I could feel my wrists becoming raw from the movement. He took a step forward and surprised me a bit. I looked up cautiously as he came closer and made his way behind the chair. He leaned down and I unconsciously cringed away in fear. He reached out and began toying with the ropes, and to my surprise I felt the blood rush back into my hands. I looked up at him confused and shocked as he refastened the ropes a great deal looser than his father had.

"You don't have to fear me," he said quietly as he dropped my hands and stood again. Somehow I found that a little hard to believe but I stayed quiet.

"What's your name?" He asked, studying my face again as he took a step back.

I hesitated, but he just waited patiently for me to respond. "Natalie," I whispered

I looked up to meet his eyes and noted how soft they were. "Joe," he offered. He held my gaze for a moment before looking away and towards the stairs.

"My father...can be a little much," he offered. "I apologize. There isn't much I can do about that but I try to keep him reasonable," he looked distant.

I shivered again and he looked back at me, the beginning of a frown forming on his handsome face. "I'd give you my jacket but we'd both get in trouble for that one," he said with sympathy in his voice.

"Joseph!" Steve called from the top of the stairs.

"Coming," he said quickly. He sent me one last apologetic look before retreating up the stairs.  


* * *

"I'm sending this one to Mark," my father said proudly as we talked in the kitchen upstairs. "She'll make an excellent addition to his establishment," he said with a smirk. I swallowed.

"No dad, not this one...not Mark," I persisted. My father had recently started kidnapping and trafficking women to various customers for a variety of reasons, and made very good money through his work. He'd always led a rough life style, but nothing this low. Although I was old enough to move out or refuse, I pledged my loyalty to help him. He was my dad, he needed some help. It wasn't much trouble for me to drive the van around from time to time or bring the girls something to eat when he was busy. I didn't play a large role, I didn't get involved really, and I tried to pretend it wasn't happening. After all, what could I do? I wasn't going to turn my own father in. Despite his many flaws I loved him.

There was something about that fearful girl in the basement though. Something in her eyes that was so vulnerable and desperate. So helpless. This one really got to me. I wanted a bigger role in this job; because I wanted to do everything I could to protect her and to help her.

"What about sending her to work for one of the guys?" I offered, that job offered the most hope. She had the best chance of escaping, and if not, living a normal life. She might be employed as an office worker or assistant to one of the hot shots of criminal activity around here. She might not even be harmed.

My father considered it for a moment. "Nah," he said with a dismissive hand gesture. "Mark's looking for a girl; this one will do just fine. She's cute, she seems quiet, he'll break her spirit easily and she'll be a fine worker."

"Don't turn that girl into a prostitute Dad; she won't be able to handle it. Give her a decent job somewhere or send her home. She's too fragile for us to be messing with. You know I usually stay out of your business, but that girl is too vulnerable for the life style you're about to throw her into," I reasoned.

"Joseph, don't tell me what to do and mind your own business," he said opening a bottle of whisky. I groaned and headed for my room. _I tried._

I was supposed to go out with some friends that night, but I couldn't leave the house to have a good time, knowing there was a girl tied up in my basement. So instead I told my father I was going to spend the night downstairs to keep an eye on her. He didn't seem to give a shit one way or the other, so I grabbed some blankets and pillows and headed for the basement.  
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, clutching our sleeping arrangements, I saw that her head was hanging in a defeated and sad gesture, her hair hanging in her face as she sat looking tired.

"Natalie?" I said gently, dropping the contents in my hand and walking towards her. "Natalie..." I lifted her chin gently and saw the she had silently been crying in my absence. My father had told her not to make a sound. I sighed, a pang of sympathy stabbing my heart. _Poor girl_.

"Hey," I said gently. "Don't cry."

"Why not?" she said defeated. "God knows what you people want from me, for all I know I could be dead in an hour, so I'm gonna cry all I want," she said defiantly.

I suppressed a chuckle at how stubborn she sounded. "We're not going to kill you," I assured her. Her face lifted only slightly. I sighed again and went around behind her to untie her from the chair. She grabbed her wrists gratefully once I had freed them and held them to her, rubbing at them gently. I noticed how red and raw they were and another pang shot through my heart. _Why do I care about this one so much?_

I went over to grab the blankets and pillows and threw them down in a pile on the floor, making a fairly comfy sitting area. "Come here," I offered, taking a seat and patting the area beside me. She hesitated. "It's more comfortable than that God damn chair I can promise you that," I offered. She half smiled at me and came to join me. She shivered again and tugged at the blankets. I frowned and this time I did give her my jacket. My father wouldn't be checking on us tonight.

She looked up at me curiously before taking it. "Thank you," she said shyly, slipping the sweater jacket on. She pulled it closer to her body and held it close, still shivering lightly. She was only wearing that damn dress..._that showed off her perfect tan legs_...stop it.

I wanted to wrap an arm around her to keep her warm, but I knew that would be crossing a line. I had to keep my distance; I was after all still working for my father. I had to remember where my loyalties were. We talked the rest of the night and the mood soon lightened. I spent that night and the next week getting to know Natalie better and realizing how truly great she was.

"I know you must be scared..." I said slowly. I wanted to say something to comfort her, to tell her she shouldn't be, but she should be. From here on out her life looked like hell. I sighed, putting my head in my hands and rubbing my eyes. "Know that I won't hurt you..." I promised, not knowing at the time that in order to cause her less pain in the future, I was going to have to hurt her.  


* * *

I used to hate sleeping. I used to think it was a waste of time. People spend half their life sleeping, and for what? But during the time I was held captive, I was never so grateful for the escape. The few hours where I could lie unconscious as time passed and get away from the hell I was living in.  


* * *

  
I heard a commotion coming from the basement a few days later and sprinted downstairs curiously to see what was going on.  
"I don't want to be tied up again! My wrists are bleeding from that fucking rope!" Natalie yelled at my father through watery eyes. It was the boldest I'd ever seen her but she was clearly fed up, and I didn't blame her. He was pushing her back into the chair, trying to tie her to it again. She struggled against him. "Stop touching me!" She screamed. Clearly something inside her had snapped and she was about to lose it. "Let go!" She squirmed. She couldn't take much more of this, that much was clear.

She continued to struggle until my father raised his hand and backhanded her across the face. She let out a cry of pain and winced. I felt myself wince with her and another pang to shoot through my heart, something only she could do to me. "Shut the fuck up, and sit still," my father roared. The testosterone in his voice made even me take a step back. She fell silent as a few tears leaked from her eyes. She closed them tightly as he secured her to the chair once again. "One more wrong move and you'll be sorry," he warned her harshly. He looked like he might move to hit her again when I intervened.

"Dad," I warned. He stopped and turned around meeting my eyes coldly. "Stubborn piece of work..." he muttered as he stomped up the stairs. I looked at Natalie apologetically and she only met my eyes for a second before looking away. I felt terrible, but what could I do?

"Joseph," my father beckoned and I followed him upstairs.  
Unfortunately for the both of us, that wasn't the last time Natalie fought back.  


* * *

A few days later she managed to break free of the rope and chair, it mustn't have been that hard since we used the same ones all the time and she wore them down every day, and my father came down to find her sitting in the corner of the room, knees pulled up to her chest.  


* * *

"Bitch! How did you get out of that chair?" Steve roared at me. I didn't answer him but shook under his angry scrutiny. "I asked you a question!" He screamed, throwing the plate of food at the wall that was supposed to be my supper. The plate shattered and fell to the ground in a thousand pieces. I curled into myself. I just couldn't take it anymore. My hands hurt so badly and I was so uncomfortable, I was going crazy unable to move, and when I felt the rope loosen I couldn't help myself.

He walked over to me and grabbed my arm tightly, pulling me up, causing me to wince in pain. "Get back in that chair," he yelled throwing me into the chair so hard it pushed back with the weight of the action. He grabbed my arms and tried to pull them together but I thrashed with everything in me.

"No!" I screamed. He tried harder and I thrashed harder. "I don't want to go back in the fucking chair!" I continued to fight against him. I could see him getting ready to hit me again when I used everything in me to wind up and kick him square in the crotch. He instantly let go of me and his hands cupped the area between his legs as he groaned.

"Fuck you, bitch," he roared. "God damn it," he said storming up the stairs as fast as he could.  


* * *

I heard a commotion coming from the kitchen and ran downstairs to see what was going on. I found my father slamming cupboards and rubbing his crotch as well as cursing and punching anything he could get close enough to in a fit of rage. _Uh oh._

"Fucking bitch," he mumbled as he continued to smack at the contents of the kitchen in anger.

"What happened?" I asked, a hint of worry in my voice.

"That stubborn bitch kicked me in the nuts, that's what happened," he roared at me. I almost chuckled until I saw the look of anger in his eyes. He was really pissed. "She thinks she can do whatever she wants! I'm in charge damn it!" He screamed again, almost breaking a cabinet drawer.

"She needs to be shown who's boss around here," he roared at me, meeting my eyes. "And I'm going to teach her," he reached for his belt and undid it, throwing it to the ground before reaching for the doorknob to the basement.

"Dad, don't," I swallowed hard.

"Someone's going to teach that whore a lesson Joseph, and it's either going to be me or you," he said, holding my gaze. "What will it be?" He asked me with a cold glare.

I saw the fury in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was planning to do. One way or another he was going to humiliate, violate and tear the girl apart until she had no fight left in her. I knew he was so pissed off right now though, that he would nearly kill her in the process. So in order to help her, I had to do the last thing on earth I ever wanted to do to anyone, especially her. In order to help her, to do her a kindness and keep my father away from her, I had to hurt her. I had to hurt her so bad that she would never forgive me, but I knew no matter what, even if what I had to do was the same as what he was planning on doing, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as if I let him at her. I would do it quick and as painless as I could, he would drag it out, and make it torture.

"Me," I said, noting a strength in my voice that shocked even me. He looked at me wide-eyed. "I'll do it," I repeated, tearing off my shirt and throwing it to the ground beside him.

He smirked at me. "I knew you liked that one. You've probably just been dying to get at her haven't you?" He laughed. I felt sick to my stomach at his words and at what I was about to do.

"You have no idea," I said coldly as I opened the basement door clad in only my jeans. I didn't think "getting it up" would be a problem. The woman was beautiful. I headed down the stairs knowing my father would be listening for her screams and cries as I "taught her a lesson".

As I reached the bottom of the stairs I took a deep breath and void myself of all emotion. I had to do this, because it was an order and because if I didn't, he would. I tried to distance myself from my body, to become the cold hard person I'd become so many times before for my father as I made it to the last step.  


* * *

I was huddled in the corner again, afraid that at any minute Steve was going to come back downstairs and beat me to a pulp. I'd never seen him so angry, but I no longer cared. I wasn't going back in that fucking chair. I heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs and my heart beat sped up. I closed my eyes tightly and backed myself as far into the dirty cold corner as I could. As the footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs, I willed myself to open my eyes. My heart leapt as I saw Joe standing there. I let out a deep sigh of relief and smiled slightly at his presence. We'd sort of become friends and I was grateful he'd talked to his dad and calmed him down.

After the initial relief of seeing Joseph wore off, I realized that he was shirtless. I noticed for the first time just how toned and muscular he was, and just how beautiful. My breath hitched as he came closer, but what I noticed next made any hint of a smile fall from my face. His expression was serious, almost expressionless. His eyes cold and void of any emotion and when he looked at me, it was almost as if he was angry at me. "Joe?" I asked in a frightened voice.

"Get up," he said in a flat tone I almost didn't recognize. I looked at him curiously. "Get. Up." he said more harshly. I obliged, I trusted him. As I stood, Joe walked towards me quickly, pushing me against the wall and grabbing my wrists tightly, he pinned them above my head as he held my gaze with his icy eyes. Any trust I had for him began to fade slowly as he pressed his body against mine and my breath began to hitch.

"Joe," I breathed in fear, "What are you doing?" I asked trying to remain calm.

"Shut up," he said harshly as he looked away from me and shifted his weight so that he was holding both my wrists in one hand and pinning me to the wall with his body weight. He reached for his belt on his jeans with the other, undoing it and throwing it to the floor.

"Joe," I said in a panicked voice. "Please don't, what are you doing? Stop!" It came out in a rush, everything was happening so fast. "Joe," I begged, tears threatening to spill over as I realized what he was actually going to do. He ignored me and slipped his jeans down and off, before turning his attention back to me, his dark hair falling in his eyes, our faces just inches apart. He was left clad in only his dark tight boxer type underwear, looking hotter than I could ever imagine, but I didn't want him, not this way at least.

His hands began to roam my body aggressively, resting on my hips, moving up to cup my breasts. I had to get him to stop, this wasn't him. I knew Joe, and this wasn't him. "Joe, please don't do this to me, please," I begged in a pleading voice, trying to break through to him. "Joe, how can you do this to me...why?" I asked through a sob, my tears finally spilling over and wetting my cheeks.

I saw something flicker in his eyes when I began to sob lightly, something lighten in them. The mask he'd been wearing fell for a moment and I saw the agony in his expression. I began to full out cry as he held me firmly to the wall, staring at the spot beside my head, but not meeting my eyes. After a moment he sighed, "I can't do this," he breathed. I looked at him curiously. "I can't do this to you..."

He met my eyes again and what I saw there was familiar. It was the Joe I knew and loved, he was back. "He's going to kill us both, and then he's going to do it himself..." Joe said in a pained voice. He let my hands drop and took a step back from me thinking.

He met my eyes again, an idea glinting in them. "Do you trust me?" He asked as he held my gaze. It was a fair question; he was asking if I could still trust him after what he had just almost done to me. The truth is I did. I nodded and he sighed gratefully. "I'm sorry," he breathed, cupping my face gently with his hands and wiping my tears with his thumbs. He stepped back, grabbing a knife from his jean pocket and my eyes widened in shock.

"Relax," he assured me, coming back to stand in front of me. "Take off your dress," he said quickly. I shot him a wide-eyed look.

"Trust me," he insisted. I hesitantly obliged, and slipped my dress off, leaving me clad in only my black bra and panties. I crossed my arms self consciously over myself. His gaze wondered my body briefly and I saw him swallow hard. I blushed lightly.

"Are you a virgin?"

"What?" I asked appalled.

"Just answer the question."

"Yes..." I said blushing deeper and looking away.

He looked down before raising the knife to his finger tip and pressing down lightly. Blood pooled at the tip and he let it drip on the floor lightly around us. He looked up and met my eyes. "Come here," he said gently. I hesitantly walked forward and he leaned down, rubbing his finger along my legs, coating them lightly in blood. "Sorry about this," he said as his hand wondered higher and he rubbed his finger against my panties, coating them lightly in blood too. The bleeding was already slowing when he pulled his finger away. I looked very much like a rape victim, this was beyond disturbing.

He dropped the knife and then pulled me into him to whisper in my ear. "Scream," he said suddenly. I looked at him curiously, and then I understood. His father. "Scream, God damn it," he said more harshly. I wrapped my arms around him and let out a scream. "Again," he ordered. I obliged. "Yell at me," he ordered.

"Joe! Stop!" I screamed. I saw his face wince in pain at my words.

"Again," he ordered. It was killing me to do this to him. It was obviously hurting him to think of what he'd almost had to do to me. "Natalie," he said sternly, "Again."

I swallowed hard. "Please, you're hurting me," I screamed at him.

Joe wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him. "One more scream," I obliged.

He waited a few moments. "I think we're good," he said in a strained voice after a moment.

We both heard footsteps descending the stairs and I felt his heart beat speed up as well as mine. Joe let go of me. "Lie down," he ordered quickly. I got down on the cold cement and pretended to be in agony. Joe stood there breathing hard, trying to control himself, yet clearly in emotional turmoil.

"Nice work son," Steve said as he entered the basement and faced us. "I could hear her screams all over the house," he said with a cocky smirk, coming to stand beside Joe.

"Looks like you really got her good," he said gesturing to me lying on the floor, "blood" dripping down my legs. "I'm kind of curious to see how this went down," he said with a cocky grin. "Why don't you show her who's boss one more time son, I want to see this," he chuckled. "I want to watch her face whither in pain," he paused. "Not such a stubborn bitch now, are we?"

"I think once was quite enough," Joe said with a strained voice.

"Oh I don't think she got the message yet Joe, one more time," he encouraged.

"No, sir," Joe said firmly. His father stopped and regarded him closely.

"Fine, then I'll show her myself," Steve said, slipping off his own shirt, showing off his own set of muscles, the man was strong, but nothing nearly as beautiful as Joe. I looked back at him again, standing there in only his underwear.

"No," Joe said quickly through gritted teeth, and a tight jaw.  
He looked at his father defiantly, with hatred in his eyes. "You are a persistent sick bastard," he said tightly.

"Who's it going to be Joseph?" His father asked again seriously.

Joe groaned in anger. "Me," he said quickly. "Don't touch her."

Joe stepped forward, very aware of his father's watchful eyes as he kneeled down next to me on the cold hard ground. "I am so sorry," he whispered through clenched teeth. Pain and anger in his eyes. He held mine for a long moment. "I'm just as trapped here as you are, my hands just as tied as yours," he explained, sympathy leaking through his voice. "But would you rather him?" He begged me to understand through pleading eyes. I did understand. I understood that I never wanted that creep touching me and that Joe would be infinitely gentler than Steve. As gentle as he could possibly be with his father's eyes watching his every move.

"Hey cut the whispering and get to it," his father ordered as he took a seat on the floor to observe. He grabbed a beer from nearby I hadn't seen him bring down, before cracking it open and taking a casual swig like he was getting ready to watch a movie. My stomach turned. "And take all her clothes off this time you pussy, I want the full view," he chuckled taking another sip.

Joe still held my eyes, leaning over me, just inches from my face while his hair fell forward, and waited for some sign that I understood why he was doing this to me, why he had to do it. His father was pissed off, had ordered it, and would've done it himself if not for Joe. I understood, but I still couldn't stop the tears from forming in the back of my eyes at the thought of what was going to happen. Especially after Joe had tried so hard to prevent it, by staging the whole thing minutes before. I blinked hard, a few tears spilling over.

"Just be gentle," I whispered back, knowing there was no escaping this. Joe closed his eyes tightly, letting out a sigh. I could see the pain in his face. He rested his forehead on mine briefly.

"I'll try my best," he said hovering over me; His bulging arms supported him on either side of my head, holding him up so I didn't feel his weight.

"Anytime..." Steve chimed, swallowing another mouthful of beer.  
Joe's eyes became cold again, like he was trying to block out the reality of what he was doing as he reached behind me and unfastened my bra, taking it off me roughly for show. From here on out I knew he was going to do what he had to to get through this, even if that meant actually hurting me a little. It had to look real.

"Thought you were gonna teach her a lesson Joseph, looks more like you're making love over there you pansy," Steve taunted. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson boy, show you how it's done."

"No," Joseph roared. He wouldn't let Steve touch me. Even if I was going to get hurt, he was going to be the one to hurt me. He shifted gears, determined to do whatever it took to keep his father away from me. I could only imagine why he tried so hard to do just that, what would happen to me if he got a hold of me.  
Not meeting my eyes, Joe ripped off my panties in a quick motion.

"I don't hear any screaming, I don't hear any crying, what is this foreplay?" Steve taunted.

Joe leaned down and took one of my full breasts in his mouth, biting down on the nipple hard. It did fucking hurt, and I cried out in pain. I saw Joe wince at the sound.

"Happy? Now shut up," Joe roared over his shoulder.

"Now keep it up," Steve called.

Joe looked down at me, taking in my body lying before him. I saw lust glaze over his eyes at the sight before him. He had said he thought I was attractive. I felt his cock hardening a bit against my leg. He lifted my hands above my head, pinning them there while one of his hands roamed my body. I could feel him getting slightly harder but he wasn't quite there yet, under the circumstances I couldn't blame him.

"Get me hard," he ordered in a cold voice, still refusing to meet my eyes.

"That's more like it," I heard Steve chant.

I lay there, tears freely springing from my eyes from the embarrassment and reality of the situation. When I didn't make a move Joe lowered his voice. "Just do it, Natalie," he said in defeat.

What else could I do? I reached up and grabbed his cock through his underwear, fondling it softly, my stomach turning with each movement. It wasn't long until I felt him fully harden at my touch, and then pull his underwear off, leaving us both fully naked. I noted how big he was and swallowed hard. I could feel my eyes widening in fear. Joe positioned himself at my entrance and then finally met my eyes again. I saw the pain and sympathy in his, the silent apologies he was sending me. Through my tear filled eyes I saw the hurt in his. "Sorry," he mouthed, holding my gaze as he slowly pushed into me. He was big. It hurt.

I cried out in pain as he filled me. I could feel myself tearing and I couldn't control the sobs that were now wracking my body.

"Wow, she's bleeding again? Unbelievable," Steve commented.

Joe growled at him as he pulled out of me slowly. I sighed in relief but before I knew it he was filling me again. I lay there sobbing and withering underneath him from the pain. Eventually, Joe had to physically grab my arms and hold me down, I was squirming so badly. Joe, as promised, was being as gentle as he could be with Steve watching us, but he was moving abnormally slow.

"What are we having a nice slow good time over there Joseph? You're supposed to be teaching this slut a lesson and it looks like your trying to get her off instead," Steve said with a hint of disgust. Joe looked at me apologetically before he picked up the pace and began thrusting into me harder, making me physically scream with each thrust from the pain. I was crying and screaming uncontrollably as I watched Joe's locked Jaw and tight lips above me, his sweaty hair falling in his face as he continued to pound into me. I choked out a sob as he continued to pick up the pace and pound into me again and again.  


* * *

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Natalie's body, of being inside her. I blocked out her heartbreaking whimpers and sobs and pretended we were actually making love. I pretended she wanted it and that her whimpers were of pleasure instead of pain. That is how I was finally able to get off and end the hell we were both in.

* * *

I felt him finally come inside of me, shooting his load painfully against my core before pulling out, making me scream one more time as I stretched for him. I sighed in relief as he rolled off of me.

"Well I must say Joseph," Steve said standing up and tossing his empty beer bottle aside. "I was disappointed in that," he said walking towards us. "Other than getting me a little hard, it accomplished nothing. You weren't even rough with her and you didn't teach her shit. I gave you a shot to set her straight and you refused to harm her. Now I'm going to have to do it myself," he said undoing the zipper of his jeans. He was already shirtless and more than ready to go.

"No!" Joe roared, standing quickly after pulling his boxers up. "Don't you dare touch her! I did what you asked! I did it, now leave her alone!" He got in his father's face.

"But you didn't son. I asked you to teach the bitch a lesson and you taught her shit," he said leaning down to pick up the knife Joe had discarded earlier with a hint of amusement. "You care about her too god damn much," he taunted. Joe huffed, his fists clenched as he stared at his father with the most hatred I'd ever seen in a person's eyes.

"Now it's my turn," he said, kicking off his jeans, exposing his already hard cock through his underwear.

Joe stormed towards his father, ready to stop him at all costs. But Steve held up the knife he'd been holding and walked over to me. I was still lying on the ground naked and too sore to really move, watching the scene in front of me play out like a nightmare. Steve knelled down and lifted me up so I was half sitting up and pulled me into his lap. He held the knife to my throat and I whimpered in fear. "Unless you'd rather I just kill the bitch?" He taunted. "She's caused enough trouble."

"Fuck you," Joe spat, hatred clear in his voice and on his face.

Steve chuckled and dropped the knife, keeping it at arm's length. He reached down to fondle my breast while he held me against him, and stared at Joe. Joe was fuming but there was nothing he could do. One move and I was dead.

So all Joe could do was sit there and watch while his father raped me. Twice. And I bawled like a baby and begged him to stop. Joe watched while I pleaded with him. "No more...please," and he watched while his father smacked me around every time I didn't comply right away. Steve's aim was to hurt me as much as possible. Joe watched as he gave me a black eye, cracked ribs, and as he raped me from behind. He watched me break in front of him and he could do nothing more but sit and watch and beg his father to stop hurting me.

And then finally Steve threw me aside like a used piece of meat and got off of me. He put his pants on and stopping only to say, "Hope you learned your lesson, bitch. Don't fuck with me," he ascended the stairs to watch the football game leaving Joe and I broken beyond repair, in every way imaginable, in the basement.

There were no words.

Joe walked over to where I lie on the ground, crying so hard I thought I would never be able to stop. He knelled down beside me as I withered in pain and clutched my naked body. I saw a small tear escape his own eye at the sight before him, my own blood spread around and on me, my pride spilled on the floor along with it.

And then he collapsed next to me, leaving his arms open, asking me if I could ever stand to look at him, or stand to be near him again. He was asking me if I could ever forgive him for what he did. He was offering me comfort in his arms, if I wanted it. I turned to face him, staring into his eyes for a long moment, those broken sorrowful eyes. And then, I leaned into his embrace and Joe held me. I cried and he held me, and we were just two emotionally confused people who would never be the same, revelling in each other's comfort.

**So I disturbed even myself writing this and I contemplated not even posting it, but it's the longest one shot I've ever written [14 pgs, almost 7000 words] and I spent forever on it. I put so much into it, trying to make it painful and heart breaking and hard to read and I'm aware, a little awkward. I don't even know why I wrote it. I'm actually incredibly nervous about posting this because I think it will only be received negatively and not respected as the painful piece of writing I tried to fabricate. This was mostly about hurt and comfort although, I kind of felt like I wrote a plot line for Law and Order: SUV when I was done lol. I doubt anyone even bothered to finish this but if you did, comments are always welcome.**


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